Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.
The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.
I read once that the ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.
You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.
It is easy to love people in memory; the hard thing is to love them when they are there in front of you.
From childhood's hour I have not been. As others were, I have not seen. As others saw, I could not awaken. My heart to joy at the same tone. And all I loved, I loved alone.
The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.
Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on. I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you.
Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing.
Come sleep with me: We won't make Love, Love will make us.
True love is usually the most inconvenient kind.
In time, the hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let it go. At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the next few years, I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got too strong, I'd write you another letter. But I never sent them for fear of what I might find. By then, you'd gone on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I wanted to remember us like we were that summer. I didn't ever want to lose that.
The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.
Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare? I say.I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror, he says.You should wake me, I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you, he says. I'm okay once I realize you're here.
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.
You could have fooled me. Everytime I called you, Luke said you were sick. I figured you were avoiding me. Again."I wasn't. I did want to talk to you. I've been thinking about you all the time." "I've been thinking about you, too." "I really was sick. I swear. I almost died back there on the ship, you know." "I know. Everytime you almost die, I almost die myself.
Love can change a person the way a parent can change a baby- awkwardly, and often with a great deal of mess.
I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia.
Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me.